FWB
by Diva In The House
Summary: House/OMC. One shot based in the Phoenix Rising universe. This is how House and Jake met, and how they became friends with benefits. Mostly man-smut, with a little plot thrown in.


**This is an extended one-shot taking place in the Phoenix Rising universe. It will probably make more sense if you read that first, specifically chapters 45-50. Otherwise, I don't own House or Wilson.**

# # #

I groan when I open the envelope. Great. Another damned conference. Just what I needed. I stride into my department head's office, tapping on the door frame of the open door.

"What is this?" I demand.

She smiles at me when she sees me waving the envelope around. "It looks like an infectious disease conference. In New York."

I roll my eyes at her statement. "Yes, I know that. I just want to know...why me?"

"It's a good learning experience for you." She replies, glancing at me over her reading glasses. "Besides, these things are almost as much mini-vacations as conferences. Don't tell me you wouldn't mind one of those."

She kind of has a point. I've been busting my ass 60-plus hours a week for I don't know how long. Anything resembling a personal life has long gone out the window. While I'm grateful for the opportunity, and it's going a long way toward paying off my massive pile of student debt...yeah, a break would not be a bad thing.

"Fine, I'll go." I sigh heavily as I lean against my department head's door frame.

"Damn right you will." She speaks sharply, reminding me who's really in charge. "You and Twardoski should have a good time."

I break into a grin at her words. Things are starting to look up. 'Ski' and I have been through damn near everything together since we first met in med school. He was one of my few straight guy friends that didn't freak when I came out, and we're as close as brothers. "You're alright, you know that?"

She laughs at me, shaking her head. "Glad you approve. Your travel arrangements are there in your packet, along with everything else you'll need. Have fun, and try to learn a little something while you're there."

My earlier mood starts to lift as I open the packet on my way back to my department. Four days in New York with my best buddy, in some pretty decent digs, if I say so myself. Things could certainly be worse.

# # #

It's the first day of the conference, and Ski and I have settled into our seats for our second lecture of the day. The first one was kind of a snooze, but this one has possibilities. If nothing else, it will fill the time until lunch. Ski's already talking about a little sandwich place far off the beaten path. "Better than the Carnegie Deli." He insists. I trust him because after all, this is his town. He grew up here, and knows the place like the back of his hand. I can only imagine what kind of adventures we're going to have. Knowing Ski, it should be a wild ride.

The lecture hall is starting to fill up, and I hear the scrape of a shifting chair next to me. Something smacks me in the leg as someone sits next to me.

"Hey, watch it, man." I scowl and try to move my leg out of the way.

"Give the cripple a little extra room, then." He snaps back, gesturing with his cane. He turns to the man who has taken the chair next to him. "Damn kids have no respect."

The other man says something I can't hear, then leans across to catch my attention. "Sorry about that. I'm sure he didn't mean it." He shoots his friend a meaningful look, as if trying to encourage an apology out of him.

"Don't worry about it." I mutter. As long as the guy keeps that cane to himself, there shouldn't be any more trouble. I turn my attention to the lecture and put the pair to my right out of my mind.

This lecture isn't shaping up to be much better than the last one, and I find my mind wandering as the lecturer drones on. Christ, this is almost as bad as med school. I wonder what the hell my boss was trying to teach me by sending me here. If she was trying to teach me appreciation for my exhausting job, I think she's succeeded. I'd almost rather be at work at this point.

The guy next to me shifts in his chair, letting out a long sigh. Obviously he's bored, too. He starts muttering something that I can't quite catch, and I realize that he's tearing this lecturer apart. It's kind of entertaining to listen to, and I find myself attracted to the sound of his voice, a low, rumbling baritone.

He taps his cane between his legs incessantly as the lecture goes on, and I can hear his friend on the other side chastise him for his running commentary. It makes me wonder if they're _together_. They certainly act like a long-time married couple. Then again, Ski and I have been accused of the same. Good thing Ski's secure in his manhood, otherwise our friendship wouldn't survive the rumors that circulate through the hospital.

I keep sneaking glances at the man next to me as the lecture continues. He's a fair bit older than me, if the gray in his hair and short beard are any indication. The parts of his face not covered in stubble are softly angular, and while he's not traditionally handsome, there's something very appealing about him.

Then there's that voice. I can imagine that voice in my ear, rumbling God-knows-what as...Ugh. I shake off whatever thought is starting to build up in my head. I try to remember the last time I got laid and fail. No wonder I'm starting to have dirty thoughts about the guy next to me. There's no point in continuing my line of thought. Chances are good he's straight, anyway.

I feel a poke in my ribs, and Ski is looking at me with an amused expression. "Just find out his name and get some already, will you? Maybe then you'll be able to concentrate on the lectures."

"Shut up." I grumble, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks, sure that they're matching the color of my hair. "He's probably straight, anyway." I catch movement out of the corner of my eye, and I glance over to see the man next to me stretch out his legs, crossing one ankle over the other. His impossibly long legs. Good Lord.

I try not to think about what his legs look like under those jeans as he rests his cane against his left thigh. He rests one hand on the length of the cane, and I get a good look at it for the first time. His fingers are long and elegant, his nails neatly clipped, the veins standing out clearly against the pale skin as he strokes his cane with his thumb.

It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, and I try to put the image of what those hands could do out of my head, even as I continue to entertain the thought.

The lecture ends before I realize it, and Ski's nudging me again. "Go on, talk to him."

"What about lunch?"

He shrugs. "Another time. I'll be around. He might not be."

Suddenly Ski disappears into the crowd, leaving me alone with the two men next to me. They both rise from their chairs, the older of the two leaning heavily on his cane as he does so.

Good grief. I'm suddenly cast in Land of the Giants. Both men tower over me, and the one that was sitting next to me speaks. "That wasn't even worth getting out of bed for. You should have just left me behind. Just for that, you're buying lunch."

"And that's different how?" His friend replies. Clearly this is an old routine for them.

"Ouch, that hurt." He places his hand on his chest as they wait for the crowd to disperse. "Fine, I'll buy this time. But just because I'm proving a point."

"Right." His friend rolls his eyes, finally leading them into the aisle. I'm about to lose track of them, although I figure it'd be damn near impossible. The guy with the cane definitely stands out. "Wonder what's good around here."

"I can recommend a couple places." The words tumble out of my mouth, and both men turn to look at me as if I've just grown a second head. I stick my hand out in nervous greeting. "Jake McCallum, Newark General."

The older man merely regards me coolly while his friend extends his hand. "James Wilson, Princeton-Plainsboro. The strong, silent one here is Gregory House."

The power of speech escapes me. I've been sitting next to _the _Gregory House this entire time and haven't even realized it. No wonder he spent the entire lecture picking it apart. This guy has more knowledge in his little finger than most of us have in our entire bodies. "It's an honor to meet you."

House rolls his eyes, keeping one hand in his pocket while resting the other on his cane. "Skip the hero worship, kid. You can express your awe by buying us lunch." He turns to Wilson. "Isn't that right?"

Wilson looks exasperated, even as he considers it. To me he says, "You don't have to."

"Sure would be _nice_, though." House returns to stare at me, and I just now notice his eyes. They're a shade of blue I'm not sure is found in nature, and they're like lasers. I can't help but melt just a little under their power.

"Follow me." I find myself saying. "Friend of mine told me about this sandwich place. Supposedly they're better than the Carnegie Deli."

"As long as I can get a dry Reuben, I'm good." House answers as he and Wilson follow me out of the emptying lecture hall.

"I'm sure arrangements can be made." I smile a little as I fall into step with the two men. Even with the cane, House is difficult to keep up with. He must have been hell on wheels before whatever caused his current disability.

We soon arrive at the small sandwich shop and place our orders. The place is quiet, and I understand why Ski likes it so much. He's kind of a snob when it comes to the tourist places, and the Carnegie Deli definitely qualifies as 'touristy' to him.

The three of us make small talk while we wait for our food, and suddenly Wilson clears his throat and nods toward a spot behind me. It's none other than Ski.

I break into a grin. "Hey, man, have a seat. Didn't figure I'd see you." I turn to House and Wilson to introduce him. "This is Matthew Twardoski, also of Newark General. Ski, this is James Wilson and Gregory House of Princeton-Plainsboro."

He nods politely to Wilson and shakes his hand, then turns to House, slightly awestruck. "_The _Gregory House? I've read a bunch of your papers. Fascinating stuff."

House rolls his eyes, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. Ski sits down, and the four of us talk shop and compare notes. Well, really it's the three of us. House doesn't talk much except to snark at Wilson, who graciously ignores it for the most part.

I keep sneaking glances at House all through lunch, my attraction building now that I get a better look at him. Individually, his physical qualities don't seem like much, but when the whole package comes together...it's damned hot. Part of me wonders if I would find him so attractive if it weren't for my currently non-existent sex life, but I quickly dismiss the thought.

I've always kind of had this thing for older men. Something about the combination of life experience and the physical character that age brings just does something for me. That, and the fact that older men tend to...last a little longer in the bedroom.

I don't like to hurry things. Unfortunately, most of the guys I've met over the last few years seem to want nothing but a quick thing. I might not be into the idea of a long-term relationship, but that doesn't mean I don't want to enjoy things.

We're starting to wrap up lunch, and I feel a slight twinge of disappointment. Wilson's a nice enough guy, and enjoyable company. I wouldn't mind hanging out with him a little bit and getting to know him, but I want to get to know House in more ways than one.

"What do you guys say to getting together for dinner?" I suddenly find myself asking.

Wilson nods in agreement. "I could go for that. There's a nice steakhouse at the hotel."

House shrugs almost indifferently. "Sounds good. You buying dinner, too?"

I chuckle a little. "Sure...for myself."

"Fine." House huffs. "I'll buy, just because I'm that good a guy."

Wilson mutters something, and House gives him a cutting look. He turns to me, studying me carefully. "Last lecture wraps up around seven. What say we meet up then?"

I nod in agreement. "Sounds good." I turn to Ski. "What do you say? Care to join us?"

Ski smirks a little. "I might have plans of my own. Met someone on my way here."

I roll my eyes in amusement. Ski can be quite the player when he wants to be. "Just leave a note on the door so I don't walk in on anything. You know how I am about naked girls." I shudder mockingly.

"Yeah, yeah." He waves his hand around casually before rising to take care of his lunch tray. "I'll catch up with you later. Nice meeting you guys."

Wilson rises from the table, taking both his tray and House's, leaving the two of us alone at the table. He's still studying me, and while it's kind of uncomfortable, there's something kind of sexy about it, too. "So..." He finally speaks. "You play for the other team."

It takes me a second to catch on before I finally nod affirmatively. "Yep, queer as a three-dollar bill. Is that a problem?"

"Nope." House pushes himself from his chair as Wilson returns. He doesn't elaborate, but then, I don't really expect him to. I fall into step with the two men as we return to the hotel.

We separate at the lobby, headed toward our individual destinations with the promise to meet in the bar later on. Part of me kind of hopes that Wilson will make other plans. I'd like a chance to get House alone so I can figure him out a little bit. Something tells me there's far more to him than meets the eye.

# # #

I scan the bar as I approach, quickly spotting House as he sits on a bar stool, casually leaning against the bar top while resting one foot on the floor. He's clearly seeking out someone, and I can't help but hope I'm the one.

"Hey, man." I greet him. He's more handsome than I remember now that he's cleaned up a bit. Gone are the jeans and rumpled button-down and t-shirt combination with the sport coat thrown over. In its place is a bright blue button down, open-necked shirt with the same sport coat from earlier, now paired with a pair of well-tailored dress pants and dress shoes. He's looking _sharp_, and it kind of takes me by surprise. "Where's Wilson?"

"Ran into some old colleague of his." House looks amused. "I think he ditched me on purpose."

It does smell like a set-up...or maybe that's just House's cologne. I don't recall smelling it earlier, but it definitely works for him. This is going to be a long dinner at this rate. "Well, you didn't ditch me. That's kind of you."

House rolls his eyes as he eases himself off the stool. "I said I'd pay. Although...the fewer people I have to pay for, the better."

I can't help but laugh a little as I follow him and our server to a booth, and we both fall into silence as we peruse our menus. The server shows up to take our drink orders, bourbon for House and a Jack and Coke for me. He snorts derisively at my drink choice. "Not man enough to take yours...straight?"

He's baiting me, and I know it. "I like a little sweet with my burn. Nothing wrong with that."

House shrugs, his baiting proving unsuccessful. "Guess not. I like mine both ways myself."

Now I know he's just messing with my head as I shoot him a curious look. "Do tell."

He breaks into a slight smile. "Straight and on the rocks. What did you think I was talking about?"

He's teasing me, and it's sexy as hell. The server returns with our drinks and to take our dinner order, breezing out as quickly as she breezed in. I take a long drink of my Jack and Coke, savoring the combination of sweet and hot as it burns slightly down my throat. It's a pleasure that I haven't made much time for lately. Somehow sneaking booze into the on-call rooms just seems like a bad idea, although I'm sure it happens on a fairly regular basis.

I can feel him watching me as I enjoy my drink, and I catch him giving me a curious once-over. "Something on my face?"

He shakes his head, his chin resting on his hand, which is supported by his elbow. "Just wondering what your game is."

"No game." I answer. "I met you, I liked you, and I wanted to get to know you a little better. Wouldn't have minded if Wilson had come along, but..." I'm tempted to reach across the table to touch him, just to see how he reacts, but I refrain. It's early yet, and I don't want to scare him off. "I kind of like this, too."

He nods slightly, looking awkward, almost shy as he averts his eyes. I'm trying to guess what's going through his mind, and now I wonder if we've misread each other. Finally he lifts his chin slightly, his intense eyes meeting mine. "If all you wanted was to get me into bed, why did you bother with..." He waves his hand around. "...this?"

I'm a little taken aback, both by his blunt words and his remarkable perception. "How do you know? Maybe I'm not trying to get you into bed. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I want to screw every guy I meet."

"No." He responds. "Just me."

_Fuck._ I've completely misread the signals. It wouldn't be the first time. "Fine, you win. Yes, you're attractive, and I like you. But if that's not your thing, then..." I gesture expansively. "We'll just have dinner as colleagues and call it good."

He dips his head slightly, an amused expression crossing his weathered features. "I didn't say I had a problem with it. You just assumed I did."

_Oh, great. Now he's just screwing with my head again. I can't believe this._ I growl under my breath and glare at House. "If you're going to screw with me, I'd rather it was my body and not my mind."

He seems to soften slightly as he lets out an audible sigh. "Fine, no more games." He folds his hands together on the table in front of him and stares me directly in the eyes. "What are you looking for out of this?"

His blunt question catches me off guard. I'm used to the verbal dance, although I could get used to this, too. "Not sure yet. I'd kind of like to hang out with you a little bit more. You seem like an interesting guy. Whatever happens next...is kind of up to you."

House seems to consider this, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. "I'm not looking for a relationship. I just got out of one not too long ago."

My curiosity is piqued. "Man or woman?"

"Man." He speaks quietly, the hurt still evident. "It...ended badly. I'm not really ready to put myself back out there."

This man is full of surprises. I'm intrigued by his openness, the way he wears his heart on his sleeve. I get the feeling he doesn't just open up like this to anyone. It's something of an honor. I reach out to cover his folded hands with one of my own. "It doesn't have to be a long-term thing. We can enjoy each other's company for a few days, then just go back to our regular lives."

House looks at me, a little baffled. "You got someone waiting for you at home?"

"Just my job." I snort. "It's a very demanding mistress."

House smiles a little. "I remember it well. All I did for my first few years out of med school was work and sleep. Sometimes I missed out on the sleep part."

We both relax now that we're back on neutral ground, and we enjoy our meals while we trade stories about our work. I miss a few of his cultural references, and he gets annoyed with having to explain them to a 'damn kid'.

I'm feeling a different vibe as dinner winds down and the server presents us with the bill. House, as promised, tosses down his debit card and signs the receipt. He leans back in the booth and spreads his long arms over the back, meeting my eyes with a serious expression. "So...now what?"

I shrug and lean forward on the table. "Whatever you want."

"Imagine the possibilities." House looks thoughtful for a moment, his eyes going back and forth between the table and me. "Were you serious about...?"

"Very much so." His open, vulnerable expression is an odd turn-on, and the way he's draping himself over the back of the booth isn't hurting things. "You?"

He looks as if he's on the fence, and I'm worried that I might have inadvertently pushed him away. Finally he nods, pushing himself out of the booth. "Let's see if you're worth the price of dinner."

I shake my head as I fall into step with him on our way to the elevator. This is shaping up to be a very interesting evening. I can't even guess at how it's going to end. I just hope it ends the way we both want it to.

# # #

We join a few people on the elevator on the way back to my room. It's surprisingly empty, given the sheer number of people at this conference, but given the lateness of the hour, I suppose it's not that big a surprise.

Eventually the elevator clears out, leaving House and I alone. My heart is pounding in anticipation, and I want to press him against the back wall and kiss him until we're both breathless. I decide to wait until I can guarantee that we're alone. I'm not willing to risk outing either one of us just in case he's not all the way out of the closet.

I can hear House thumping his cane rhythmically against the floor, and I get the feeling he's as wound up as I am. It's a quiet ride up to my floor, and I'm more than a little worried that one or both of us will chicken out when it gets right down to it.

I'm so deep into my ruminations that I don't even notice that House has moved in closer until his scent washes over me. In one swift move, I find myself up against the back wall of the elevator, House's hands gripping the railing on either side of me, his cane clattering to the floor as he presses his lips against mine.

He's tentative at first, as if he's still debating with himself before pressing further into me, his tongue sliding into my mouth. I eagerly accept what he's giving, sliding my hands to the back of his neck to pull him in closer, and I can taste everything he's consumed over the course of the evening on his tongue.

It's fucking fantastic, and I want more, far more than we can get away with in this elevator. A low moan escapes somebody's lips, and I can't be sure if it's mine or his. It doesn't matter. At this rate, we'll both be doing a whole lot more than moaning before the night's out.

The elevator dings as it reaches another floor, and House breaks the kiss, staring down at me. He's breathing heavily, his lips slightly parted, his eyes a little darker with desire. "Fuck me." He mutters as he pushes away and picks up his cane.

"I will if you let me." I tell him, my own voice soft with desire. I'm still leaning against the back of the elevator, trying to collect my thoughts enough to get off the damn thing. This _is_ my floor, after all, and I'm in a rush to find out if Ski has found somewhere else to hang out. If he hasn't, I might just have to kick him out.

House snorts and follows me, moving a little slower than he was prior to getting on the elevator. "We'll see."

Few things turn me on more than a good challenge, and this is one I'm more than eager to take on. If that one kiss was any indication...I don't even want to think about it yet. I know I'm getting way ahead of myself.

There's a note on the door when I arrive. I'm relieved to find that Ski has indeed found somewhere else to be. I remind myself to thank him later on when I see him as I slide my keycard into the lock.

House closes the door heavily behind him, leaning against it as he watches me move around the room. Now that we're here, my nerves are jangling. I don't do hookups as a general rule, and I'm pretty sure House doesn't either.

But he looks so goddamn good leaning against that door, twirling his cane like a baton in his long, elegant fingers, deep in concentration. Or perhaps he's distracting himself, trying to distance himself from the situation.

I bite my lip as I move toward him, stilling the hand that twirls the cane. "If you want to call it a night, I'll understand."

He lifts his eyes to meet mine with an unreadable expression. Finally he shakes his head and pushes himself off the door. I consider myself fairly tall at 5'10", but House still towers over me, easily six foot plus.

The air between us is charged with anticipation, more on my part than his, I suspect. One of us has to make a move.

We seem to make that decision at the same time. House leans down toward me as I move toward him, our lips meeting somewhere in the middle, our tongues soon joining in the same dance that they started in the elevator.

There's nothing to stop us now. I hear House's cane hit the carpeted floor with a soft thump as his hands start moving over my body. My jacket is the first casualty, slipping easily off my shoulders while my hands start unbuttoning his shirt. I'm eager to find out what he's hiding under all those layers of clothing.

I'm not the least bit disappointed at what I find when I finish undoing his shirt and spread my hands over his chest and shoulders. He's heavily muscled, more so than I anticipated, and I'm reveling in the feel of the movement under his skin.

It's a fight to get the shirt and the jacket off of him, and I think I end up busting the buttons on his shirt cuffs in the process. Not that either one of us seem to care as I smooth my hands all over him, breaking away from his mouth long enough to admire the view before me.

He closes his eyes as I touch him all over, letting out small noises of pleasure as I find all sorts of sensitive places on him. It becomes something like a game of hide-and-seek, only he's not hiding shit, and I'm seeking out every little sensitive spot. His reactions turn me on almost as much as anything else about him, and I decide to make it my mission tonight get draw out as many of those responses as I possibly can.

I start unbuckling his belt while I recapture his lips, pressing in for a long hard kiss while I finish undoing his pants, letting them fall around his ankles. He makes some sort of odd grunting sound, pulling back ever so slightly.

"What's wrong?" My voice is rough, but concerned.

"Leg." House manages to get out. "If we're going to go much further, it's going to have to be elsewhere."

I glance around the room, nodding towards a chair not far away. "There's a chair about three steps to your right."

He nods in response, and I step away long enough to let him step out of his pants and limp over to the chair. His legs are as well built as the rest of him, and I can't wait to feel them flex under my hands.

House eases himself into the chair, and I immediately slide to my knees in front of him, spreading his legs apart so that I can get as close as I can to him. I lean in to press my lips to his, trying to pick up where we left off.

He's back in the moment before I know it, responding as he did when I had him pressed against the door, and I can feel him harden against me. I draw back from his mouth, nipping my way down his neck, the soft sounds of pleasure and his scent combining to turn me on more than I thought possible.

He doesn't even realize how amazing he is, what power he has as he's sprawled out in the chair, completely open and vulnerable. The only thing that would make this better would be if he were completely naked, so I move to remove his boxers.

His eyes fly open, his hand reflexively moving to stop me. "No need for that."

I'm completely confused. "Why?"

His mouth twists, and the moment seems to slip away again. After a short pause, he pushes up the hem on his boxers, revealing a scar that takes up a good deal of his right thigh. I could care less about it. During my rotation in the ER, I saw far worse things. It's obvious that it bothers the hell out of him, though, and I'm not sure how to handle it.

I decide to go for the direct approach. I lightly run my hand over the rough and puckered skin, feeling the gap where muscle should be. "I don't give a damn about this. You're still hot, and I still want you." I lean in again to whisper in his ear. "If you think this thing is going to keep me from fucking your brains out, you're crazy." His eyes fluttered open, slightly hooded with something like desire. "That's right. Don't look so surprised." I kissed him in the gap between his jaw and his ear, flicking at the spot with my tongue. He gasped sharply, following with a soft moan. "That's what I'm talking about. God, you're so fucking hot. I'd screw you right here in this chair if you'd let me."

"Don't let me...stop you..." His voice trailed off, and I could feel him harden beneath me.

"First things first." I answered, moving again to take off his boxers. I take his shaft in my hand while running my other hand all over him, listening to the variety of soft sounds that fell from his lips as I ran my tongue all over him.

He's moaning and squirming under my touch, roughly running his hand over my head and clutching at my hair. I drag my tongue from the base to the tip, flicking it lightly with my tongue before taking him all the way into my mouth, tilting my head back slightly so that he slides all the way down my throat.

"_Fuck._" He groans loudly, arching into my mouth as he slides in and out of my mouth, my tongue playing all over his shaft, drawing out his response. It's unbelievable, and I'm on the edge of coming myself just from listening to him.

I wrap my arms around his waist and start sucking hard, going for the big finish that I know isn't far in coming. I feel his hand tense around the back of my neck, and he comes hard down my throat, shaking as the spasms come one right on top of another, seeming to never end. It's fucking amazing, and it's almost my own undoing.

He relaxes his grip on me, sagging back into the chair with a heavy sigh as he strokes the top of my head. I make my way back up to him, smiling when I see the peaceful, relaxed expression on his face, his body sprawled out over the chair. "You're beautiful, you know." I murmur as I kiss him. "I still want to fuck you."

He chuckles, a low sound that sends shivers through me. God, he's damned sexy, especially right this minute. I'm not kidding when I tell him how much I want him.

I pull away long enough to find a condom and lube, and I can feel his eyes on me as I move around. I wonder if he finds me nearly as attractive as I find him.

I offer him a hand up, and he slowly takes it, moving as languidly as a cat as I lead him to the bed and guide him to his back. I lay down beside him, caressing him all over, admiring his body as he sprawls out across the bed.

I squirt some lube out onto my fingers, leaning over him to kiss him softly, slowly as I work my fingers inside him. They slide in fairly easily, and I know that this is somewhat familiar territory for him.

He closes his eyes again, purring with pleasure as I work my fingers back and forth. I decide to do him face-to-face, just so I can watch those glorious reactions again.

I rip open the condom and cover myself before shifting to my knees so that I'm between his legs, caressing those muscular thighs once again. He shivers slightly when I brush my fingers along his inner thighs, and I think there's a possibility I can make him come again.

The thought thrills me to no end as I enter him, slowly at first, carefully watching his face for any painful reactions. Pain isn't my thing, whether giving or receiving. He tenses a little under me, but soon relaxes, and I find a smooth, steady rhythm, shifting slightly for maximum thrust.

He's hardening again, and I pick up my tempo, caressing him all over before taking his shaft in my hand. I have no idea if I can make him come again, but I damn sure want to give it a shot.

I hear his breath catch in his throat, and soon we're moving in steady rhythm. I'm trying to hold off until he gets closer, but damn, it's getting difficult. His hands wrap around my waist, curling into my back as his breathing rate increases, and I know it won't be much longer.

We come almost within a few seconds of each other, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I come, feeling him shoot all over my hand. I don't give a damn, though, and I simply pull out and flop down on the bed next to him, disposing of the condom and returning to lay next to him. Both of us are breathing heavily, worn out from the complete release we've both experienced.

I place a hand on his stomach, and he stiffens slightly in response. He seems to want to distance himself, which is a little disappointing, but not surprising given the circumstances.

We each take a quick shower and rest up for a while, and just as I think he's going to fall asleep, he initiates by starting a line of kisses down the side of my neck as he takes my shaft in his large hand and starts stroking me. It takes me by surprise, but soon I'm drawn in, and he straddles me, holding my wrists over my head with his strong hands while working his way down my body.

When he takes my member into his mouth, it's like nothing I've ever experienced. He alternates between gentle suction and running his tongue over me, and it's beyond intense. I hear moaning and groaning, and I'm pretty sure it's me, but I'm pretty much out of my own body at this point.

He leaves the blow job behind in favor of shifting so that he's laying next to me. In one swift move, he rolls me on top of him, reaching his hand in between us and taking both of us in his hand. He strokes slowly at first, increasing the speed until I'm just about to come before backing off. Every time he does it, I'm nearly climbing the damn walls from the sensation.

I wrap my arms and legs around him, crushing my lips against his and shoving my tongue into his mouth, the intensity of the hand job taking me over. He moans into my mouth, and I can feel both of us tense as we come together, making one big mess, neither one of us caring as we come down, shaking and sweating from the pure intensity of the sensation.

I kiss him again, keeping my arms and legs wrapped around him so that he can't get away. Finally he growls at me to let him go, and I release him. He quickly limps into the bathroom, and I hear the shower running again.

I follow suit, and we manage to get a couple hours of sleep before my cell phone alarm goes off. I hear him grumbling as he stumbles around for his clothes, and I almost hate to see him go. I know I hate seeing him cover that fine body.

"So...do I get to see you again?" I push myself up on my elbows to look at him.

"Sure." He shrugs, the intense expression in his eyes giving him away. "No reason not to."

We find ways to spend the next couple of nights together, and it's finally the last day of the conference. I don't want to let him go, even if things aren't serious between us. "You know," I mention casually. "It's not that far from Newark to Princeton. I could come see you on my days off if you wanted."

House gives me a sharp look. "I told you I didn't want a relationship."

"It's not a relationship." I insist, hoping I don't sound too desperate. "Think of us as friends with benefits."

He tilts his head thoughtfully, and I hold my breath in anticipation. "I guess I could work with that. Not like I have anything...or anyone else going right now."

We exchange phones and enter in each other's numbers. "I'll call you when I know I have a day off. I can get a room, and...we'll see what happens."

House smirks in response. "We already know what's going to happen."

I snort and roll my eyes as I give him a quick squeeze. I know that whatever happens between us, it's going to be damned hot. I'll take it for however long it lasts. I'd be kidding myself if I thought there could be more than that.

The more I think about it as I drive home, half listening to Ski overshare his wild hook-up story, the more I think this could be the perfect thing for me right now. If I play my cards right, I could get laid on a regular basis and have some good company to boot.

"So what about you, man?" Ski's finally finished his tale of heterosexual debauchery and turns his attention to me. "How'd your hook up work out?"

"Good." I grin in response. "Looks like I've found myself a long-distance fuck buddy."

"Cool." He glances at me. "If that's what you want."

"It works for now." I answer. "Never know, things could change."

Ski falls silent, and I know he's concerned about me. I'd like to tell him there's no need, but I know that's not entirely true. I do tend to throw myself pretty hard into my affairs, and I've been known to get my heart stomped on as a result.

This is different, though. House won't let me get attached to him unless he's damn well good and ready, and I'm starting to accept that he might not be ready again for a long time. Whoever broke his heart did a damned good job.

I'll take what I can get from House, because aside from the ridiculously hot sex, he's also just one hell of a guy. He and I could wind up becoming good friends, and I know I could always use more of those. Maybe House could, too.

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